#it's the last one huzzah!

[cha-melodius]

Hey, hiii! Are you still taking prompts? Am I right that this one didn't come yet:

💖 + firstprince

Your prompt fulfillments have all been lovely and wonderful, superb even, 12/10, absolutely addictive, no notes, chef's kiss. Mwah!

💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out (you are right, that one didn't get sent before! sorry for the delay on this, it fought me a bit [no pun intended], but it's also extra long to make up for it. a bit of m-rated smut below the cut. and thank you!! read all the kiss ficlets)

Henry finds him in the training room, slamming his fists too hard into the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling.

“We need to talk about what happened back there,” Henry announces from where he leans in the doorway, loud enough to be heard over the erratic thwack thwack filling the room.

Alex doesn’t so much as glance toward him. “Don’t think we do, actually.”

Unfortunately for him, Henry isn’t willing to let this one go, especially when Alex’s self-destructive streak seems to be still going strong. There’s blood soaking through the wrappings on his knuckles, for Christ’s sake. He doesn’t stop even when Henry crosses over to the bag, so Henry grabs one of his wrists and holds firm.

“What do you want, Henry?” Alex spits, fixing Henry with a hard glare as he tries to twist away.

Henry tightens his grip and tugs him closer. “I want to talk.”

“Well I don’t, so either square up or get the fuck out of my way,” Alex practically growls.

“I’m not going to fight you, Alex,” Henry says flatly. Even if he wasn’t still wearing his office clothes, it’s a stupid idea.

Alex’s eyes flash in a way that Henry knows is nothing but trouble. “You sure about that?”

Henry would reply that he is sure, in fact, except Alex swings a wild hook at him with his free arm, and Henry is forced to block it. Using Henry’s distraction to his advantage, Alex pulls free from his grip and keeps coming, throwing punches and forcing Henry back across the mat until he is, quite frankly, fed up. Henry makes another grab on Alex’s next punch and tries to twist his arm behind his back, but Alex is too quick—he drops his shoulder and throws out a leg, sweeping Henry’s feet out from under him, and the move sends them both tumbling to the floor.

Unfortunately for Alex, though he’s got the speed advantage when upright, Henry’s mass works to his advantage on the ground. Alex tries to squirm out of his grip, but Henry gets a thigh thrown over his hips and succeeds in turning them over so that he’s straddling Alex’s thighs, catching Alex’s other wrist and pinning both wrists to the mat next to his head as he does.

“For fuck’s sake, stop,” Henry snaps, his chest heaving from the exertion.

“Make me,” Alex retorts hotly, defiance flashing in his eyes as he struggles, arching up under Henry’s body, and abruptly a different kind of heat flares in Henry’s gut.

“Alex,” he warns.

A slow grin spreads onto Alex’s face, and he very deliberately shifts against Henry again. “Make me,” he taunts, his voice pitched low, and the last threads of Henry’s tattered restraint give way.

He crashes his lips onto Alex’s in a bruising kiss that’s just as much a battle as the fight that came before it. Alex kisses with all of his teeth and his tongue shoving into Henry’s mouth, and it should be awful but it’s not. The rest of Henry’s breath is stolen away, but he doesn’t care, he’s drawing his own oxygen from Alex’s lungs now. Alex writhes under him, still trying to squirm out of Henry’s grip, and when he finally does his hands go right to Henry’s arse, digging his fingers into the flesh and urging Henry’s hips against his. His stupid little workout shorts do precisely nothing to conceal how turned on he is, and he grinds up desperately against the rapidly tightening region of Henry’s trousers.

“Fuck,” Alex gasps when they part, tipping his head back against the mat and exposing the tempting line of his throat. “More. Fuck, H, I need—”

“I know what you need,” Henry growls against his fluttering pulse, then he shoves a hand into Alex’s shorts and bites down hard on his neck, and Alex keens.

It’s fast and efficient and a little rough—Christ, they don’t have time for finesse, they’re in the bloody training room and anyone could walk in—but Alex clings to him and fucks up just as hard into his fist as Henry leaves a lurid bruise just above his collarbone. Henry knows what he’s doing, and it takes only minutes before Alex is falling apart under him. He calls Henry a fucking motherfucker just before he comes, and then he goes entirely silent as his eyes squeeze closed, his chest heaves, and he spills hotly over Henry’s fist and his own stomach.

Henry works him through it until he’s hissing at the oversensitivity, then wipes his hand on the inside of Alex’s shorts and starts pulling away. That snaps Alex quickly out of his post-orgasmic haze, and he catches Henry by the wrist.

“Wait, what about you?” he asks, looking pointedly down at where Henry’s straining against his trousers.

“I’m fine,” Henry says shortly as he pulls away and stands up. Christ, what he wouldn’t do for Alex’s hands on him, but not—

Not like this.

He clears his throat, shoving all of the too many feelings about what just happened deep, deep down. “Go clean yourself up. We need to talk.”

[inkclover]

A wild Heket joins your party!🍄🍁

[wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj]

ok chat the poll is over time to reveal the answers

someone is killed in a giant microwave - YEAH season 12 episode 1 murdoch mystery mansion. the potato cooking room was at first a hypothetical presented in an earlier season that murdoch made a reality during the designing of his house ! someone then used the room to kill someone inside uh oh

sigmund freud's gaydar - YEAH season 15 episode 12 murdoch on the couch. sigmund freud, who's at the station house because of a threat to his life, reads henry's letter addressed to george and believes it to be a letter for a lover. when henry brings this up to brax and watts later, they don't contest this ! (in fact claiming this was the only thing he was right about) was going to make a joke about how he was like i know what you are but he actually seemed like genuine and objective with it honestly what the hell was up with that.

re-enactment of the last supper with dead bodies - YEAH season 9 episode 4 barenaked ladies. to make a poetic point about guilt and betrayal, someone kills some people who they think have wronged someone and electroplates them in the poses of various figures from the last supper.

one of the main characters kills jack the ripper - YEAH season 2 episode 2 snakes and ladders. a serial killer on the loose suspected to be jack the ripper is in toronto, and in a fight with him in the morgue, julia kills him. she is understandably shaken by this and the end of the episode she dances with murdoch because she’d like to be held <3

sherlock holmes meets arthur conan doyle. yeah they meet each other - YEAH season 6 episode 4 a study in sherlock. due to childhood trauma, there's a guy in toronto living as sherlock holmes :)) murdoch is frustrated that he won't believe that sherlock holmes isn't real, so to convince him, he invites arthur conan doyle, who happens to be visiting toronto, over.

reincarnation is real - YEAH season 6 episode 11 lovers in a murderous time. cant believe yall forgot this one this was one of my fav episodes the first time i watched s06 but anyways. two people bear a striking resemblance to two doomed lovers from many years ago, and the woman has visions and dreams of memories of details she can't possibly know ! they're reincarnated lovers. whoah

pig flies - YEAH season 6 episode 1 murdoch air. james pendrick, flying his test craft in the race for the world's first controlled air craft, tested a harness by using a dead pig as a passenger. was reminded of this one because in a s15 episode the brackenreids were laughing abt something and margaret said "when pigs fly!" and brax was like "i've seen that happen actually" <3

murdoch invents uber - NAH. murdoch does not invent uber. the closest we get to uber is not murdoch's invention but george and henry with henry's cab :) this lie kind of falls apart when you consider that murdoch's inventions are almost always technological innovations, while uber is. a business. and murdoch doesn't even like cars.

murdoch dies in a tub but only temporarily - YEAH season 5 episode 10 staircase to heaven. murdoch investigates a death within a club (one member being emily) who compete for a chance to "die" to see what the afterlife looks like, dropping them as close to death as possible and then reviving them, and murdoch tries it out yeah 👍

murdoch beats up santa claus - YEAH season 17 episode 9 the christmas list. in possibly his most out of character episode, murdoch suspects department store santa claus of theft and tries to arrest him in front of the children, then when santa resists, murdoch beats the shit out of him

[linkito]

👀 you know I HAVE to ask about that one incident now because nooooo he hurt Grian?? What happened??

Especially if there's sketches involved, because you two are apparently gods to be so good with both writing and art.

-🎀

pffffft hardly gods, ribbon anon, we're just very obsessed with our own au LOL<3

Now behold!! The Incident™!!! rambles and art below cut! (sorry it took so long :'3)

So somewhere down the line, though before any of the events of the mimic/Juni arc, Grian and Scar get attacked by a large group of hunters. It’s a coordinated effort, incredibly calculated.. 

They’ve prepared a thick, heavy net to throw over Grian that tangles into his wings if he tries to use them to escape. And though it takes multiple men to subdue Scar, they get him by stabbing him through the shoulder with a long pronged spear.

It locks in on the other side and makes it almost impossible to remove without worsening the wound or breaking the spear, and someone can keep holding onto the handle.

The hunters clearly want them both alive (for now). Their plan seems to be to sell them, or at least Grian (or at least Grian’s wings).

They can sort of force Scar to move by threatening to jostle the spear, and they tie his hands, too, so he can struggle all he wants, but all he can do is walk while he just continues to bleed. Grian is practically dragged along, twisted and tangled into the coarse net. They’re both scared out of their minds.

Eventually they arrive at a village of sorts, like an outpost for bounty hunters. The humans discuss keeping the vex for sparring purposes (more like target practice), and how they should go about turning a profit with the avian— whether they should sell him as a whole or in parts. One particular hunter removes the net from over Grian and steps his boot down onto one of his wings, knife in hand like he’s going to slice off a few feathers or even a whole damn chunk.

Now, Scar’s gone vex-brained before, but seeing this unfold before him? This time it’s different.

His eyes glow and his hair turns entirely white. Claws and fangs emerge and he sees nothing but pure rage.

With newfound strength, Scar easily breaks through the ropes, but he’s still got that wretched spear. It doesn’t matter to him in the slightest though. He lashes out, slashing and attacking wildly, blood spilling every which way.

Worried he needs to aid with controlling the vex, the hunter with the knife hesitates. And Grian takes that moment that he feels the weight of his boot shift to use his other wing to slam into the man’s body and knock him onto the ground. It’s his mistake for underestimating Grian.

Together, the two of them manage to scramble to flee, but there are hunters on their trail, both humans and bloodhound creatures. And Scar is still entirely feral. He’s not himself at all. He’s not seeing things right, it’s just rage and instinct and blood.

He tears through men and monsters alike, not even bothering to draw his sword. It’s all teeth and claws.

Grian thinks he ought to be afraid, but in spite of everything, Scar’s instinct to protect is just as strong, and his claws weave masterfully around Grian, only striking down their foes.

In the midst of the chaos, however, Grian notices something. While in whatever arcane form this may be, Scar is rapidly healing all his wounds. Blue wisps of magic weave his skin back together as it breaks, although it leaves behind awful, ragged scarring. (How interesting...)

But the spear is still there.

Scar can’t heal while that thing still pierces through him.

And that’s a serious wound. Scar may legitimately die from it if he comes out of this haze without dealing with it. And something tells Grian that Scar doesn’t have enough reason right now to realize that himself.

So as soon as he has a chance, Grian grabs the spear, and with great difficulty, manages to snap it so that it might be pulled out. 

But Scar doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. All he registers is pain and that someone else caused it. 

There’s confusion.

There’s lashing out. 

Grian can maybe manage to dodge out of the way, but he still has to remove the spear, and in the end, in order for Grian to succeed, Scar also lands a wild slash directly onto Grian’s wings. 

The spear gets yanked out, but now Grian is bleeding and in a nightmarish world of pain and Scar’s onslaught is far from over. He pounces onto Grian, pinning that injured wing onto the hard ground underneath them both.

Scar is confused and betrayed and hurting and no longer has any sense over his actions.

And Grian is terrified. Terrified out of his mind, but also—

It’s Scar.

And Grian’s wings have been nothing but a beacon, nothing but a source of danger to them both. And if Scar decides it’s better if they’re gone? ...maybe Grian would let him. 

And as blood trickles between his feathers, he thinks maybe it would be better after all.

So Grian goes limp beneath him, entirely giving in.

“Scar...” he mutters, and maybe it’s a plea. Maybe it’s a surrender.

Scar’s pointed ears twitch. He hears Grian call his name, clear as day, amidst the haze and adrenaline and fear. And Scar needs to protect him. He has to keep fighting. Grian is scared.

He’s scared.

He’s scared of—

“...oh god.” Scar’s voice comes out hoarse, eyes flickering weakly back to their normal green hue.

He sees his hands hovering near Grian’s throat, claws outstretched, and his hands are drenched in blood and he doesn’t know whose it is. Scar stumbles back, horrified. He thinks he’s going to be sick. Everything rapidly returns to normal and suddenly he feels so weak, absolutely drained, his hands are trembling now and—

They both hear shouting in the distance.

Unfortunately, there is no time to come to terms with any of this at all.

They have no choice but to keep running.

...

Now Scar already does everything he can not to touch Grian’s wings. Grian has so much trauma surrounding his wings already, and now? Now Scar feels no better than any of the other monsters after Grian’s feathers. He doesn’t deserve the right. He failed and he hurt Grian, and Grian can barely even bring himself to treat the wound because part of him truly believes he ought to leave them tarnished and broken. 

And later, when Grian inadvertently flinches at Scar’s touch? Scar vows to himself to never use that savage state ever again. 

[lynx-doodles-indie-games]

been playing modded scugs lately (after a year and some-odd months, geez) and what a pair of contrasting games

wanderer is from the newly-updated drought mod and wingcat is from the appropriately-named wingcat rising mod. the former feels like a mix of survivor (disorientation) and hunter (direction) in atmosphere, while the latter is like "weeeeeeeeeeee~! i'm gonna scale the wall in one cycle!"

can't wait to play more

[kheyys-worms]

Happy New Year folks ✨✨✨ (ft. My two faves in their new year get up <33)

click for better image quality

[tkachuksoralfixation]

1st sentence ask game:

Connor is one second away from absolutely losing his marbles.

Been brainstorming this for a while and since you gave me a really amazing idea in the discord server i give you: avatar au

I did this game entirely wrong and just used the sentence as inspiration rather than as the first sentence.... And then this fic is 1.1k. so. Yeah.

Anyways! Ficlet under the cut 🥰

For a majority of the years he's spent hiding, Connor has experienced true peace. 

The destiny that was preached to him ever since he was old enough to understand the concept of fate and prophecies never quite faded away. Every day, he relives the pain, the guilt, the shame of running away. Initially, Connor traveled the world alone, nearly starving and surviving solely on dedication and foraging. He was incredibly lucky, after two years, to have found solace on Kyoshi island. 

It wasn't exactly a place, in Connor's mind, that he would seek out for his hiding. But the Kyoshi warriors offered him protection and their secrecy, along with a home, training, and anything else he could possibly need or ask for. And, well, Connor wasn't exactly in a position to deny their services. So, four years later, he's somehow managed to stay hidden while still keeping himself in decent shape. 

While he did run away from his fate, Connor did still believe it would eventually find him. That he still had a duty to avenge the Air nation. What he didn't expect, however, was that it would find him today. 

Grocery runs have become pretty standard for Connor in the past year. He travels by foot to the nearest village, picks up anything and everything he or the warriors need, and heads back to their secluded village. No problems have ever found him. The folks in the surrounding village never recognize Connor, and even if they do, they never ask. His privacy is protected on Kyoshi, and that's part of the reason he loves it so much. 

That is, until now, when he's on his usual grocery run, and a stranger shoves past him with complete disregard of the bustling streets around them. Normally, Connor would apologize and move on, but this guy stops and addresses him directly. 

“Watch where you're going, you flaming hog monkey,” the stranger snaps, his voice aggressive and rough.

Connor opens his mouth to apologize, but he freezes. The man before him stares at him with icy eyes, a vaguely familiar face glaring at him expectantly. Immediately, he's taken back to the day he ran, to the faces of the soldiers who infiltrated his home. The faces of uncaring, soulless puppets of the Fire Nation, wiping out his friends, family, everyone he knew. 

He's older, now. He's grown into a rather nice looking young man, and if Connor wasn't haunted by his past, he probably would've never recognized him. But he relives that night over and over again, and he has the faces memorized. This man is no different. 

Yeah. Connor is one second away from losing his marbles. 

“Well?” The soldier hisses, his face contorting into an intimidating frown. “Are you just going to stand there and look stupid? I have places to be.” 

Connor rapidly blinks, trying to tie his thoughts together. What is he supposed to say again? What even instigated this aggressive behaviour? Wow, it's hot outside today. Where the hell are his words? Why does his tongue feel heavy? He's fucked. Oh, spirits, the Fire Nation found him and they're going to torture him for the rest of his life, fuck, what is he supposed to do? He could run. He could easily take this guy out, probably. That is, if he's a regular soldier and not a firebender. If he was, Connor was fucked. 

Oh, Spirits, Connor is fucked. 

Thankfully, someone else interrupts their awkward encounter and snaps Connor out of his panicked state. Unluckily for Connor, however, it's another soldier. Fuck. 

“Could you stop disappearing on me, Leon? It's almost like you really don't wanna be around me,” the second soldier announces with a grin, clapping the first— Leon, he picks up— on the shoulder. He's the same height, with curly hair and a decent build. Yeah, Connor doesn't stand a chance against these two. 

“It's because I don't,” Leon retorts, still glaring at Connor, “I'm trying to get this idiot to understand he needs to watch where he's walking.” 

Connor swallows hard as the new guy's eyes drift towards him. The three of them sit in silence for one moment, two moments, then three. When a flicker of recognition ignites in the second soldier's eyes, Connor knows it's time to book it. 

“Um,” Connor quickly scans the area for the quickest escape route, “I’m really sorry for running into you. I, uh, I really do have to get going, though. Sorry, again.” 

Just as Connor goes to scurry away, the second man grabs him by the wrist. He whips around, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. No, no, no, this isn't happening. He can't let this happen. He can't get dragged away when he's finally found peace. Or maybe this is destiny finally catching up to him. Maybe he should give in and let himself be taken, face his fate head on. 

But he meets eyes with the second man. His face is kinder, the only lines on his face caused by the grin he currently wears. There's no animosity, no malice, not a hint of nefarious intentions in his body language. That confuses Connor. Shouldn't he know who he is by now? Shouldn't he want him dead? 

His question is answered in an instant. The soldier simply smiles apologetically towards him before he speaks. “Don't mind him, he's just cranky from the long boat ride,” he says, making light of the situation, “I'm Matthew, by the way. You seem familiar, do I know you from somewhere by chance?” 

And that's Connor's cue to leave. “Thanks, Matthew, but I'm positive you don't,” he quickly stumbles through the sentence, pulling his arm away. “I really do have to go. I'm sorry for running into you again.” He says it as confidently as he can, and then he's walking away as quickly and inconspicuously as he possibly can. 

As he walks away, he hears the two of them bickering still. He feels incredibly lucky as he takes the path back the way he came, keeping to the treeline to avoid being followed. There's no way Matthew will go very long without realizing where he recognizes Connor from. He remembers Matthew pretty vividly. He remembers his hesitant face, back then, young as he was. He remembers meeting his eyes, silently begging him to have mercy. 

And, well, that night didn't end the way Connor wishes it did. Somehow, though, he feels like what Matthew just did was a semblance of an apology. 

He knows he's lucky. 

He also knows it's not long before his location is no longer a secret.

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 5: Rafaello Busoni (⅘)

Vignettes for Book the Third, Chapters 1-9

Now we're on to Book the Third! This will actually be the last set to have anything but the regular mini vignette drawings. 21 in total!

1 / 5 || 2 / 5 || 3 / 5 || 4 / 5 || 5 / 5

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

[birbleafs]

A/N: Prompt is based off this tweet from @/absolutesilly here:- " it’s important to me that the “A fell first, B fell harder” trope ISN’T about B loving A more. it’s about A spending a long time just getting used to having this (seemingly) hopeless pining going on in the background 24/7, while B is just. hit by a truck with it all of a sudden. fell first: been suppressing their emotions for so long that it’s like white noise for them. always there but mostly manageable. a bruise that only hurts when you press on it fell harder: If We Don’t Get Married Tomorrow I’m Gonna Start Biting People "

And also my own private QRT to that: "A is Alhaitham, except that he isn't suppressing it as much he assumes It's Obviously Known, if you understand him 100%. and B is absolutely Kaveh when he finally acknowledges his own self-denial yearning LMAO" and Liz's follow-up reply: "Kaveh trying to formulate plans to woo Alhaitham and believes it doesn’t work since nothing changes, until he starts to notice how disgustingly domestic they already are." ___

This fic is also written for Liz, for always inspiring/supporting my feral Kavetham keysmashing ❤︎

[the-lavender-clown]

LAST CHAPTER OF DO5A HAS OFFICIALLY BEEN SENT OFF TO BE BETAED

[muirneach]

almost exactly a year ago i had covid(!!) and was picking up river mussels. and now i don’t have covid and am picking up river mussels. growth

[baked-bread]

me looking for my silly discs at the public library instead of home for my stupid mental health (going outside)

[5sos-fic-fest]

Meet Hazel!

Name:

Hazel

Tumblr URL:

@allsassnoclass​, but also @5sos-fic-exchange​, @5sos-writing-week​, and this one, because I am the mod!

Archive of Our Own Username:

allsassnoclass (brightblackholes)

Favorite 5sos song?

Babylon!!!!!!!!

Three songs you’ve been listening to?

Romeo & Juliet by Peter McPoland Stick Season by Noah Kahan Talking Business by Dessa

What do you enjoy most about writing fic?

a lot of things! I really enjoy building words and crafting plots and stories.  I love creating characters!  I love stringing sentences together!  it’s hard to pinpoint what, exactly, I like best right now, but I just really love creating stories!

Describe the vibe of your songfic in three words:

apocalyptic, anxiety, endings

Special Promo:

my masterlist

[aparticularbandit]

i'm really fond of some of the minor details i have in this fic.

....

that said, i regret not writing down a handful of things because i forgot what they were. alas.

[petluck]

"I got three shirts and they all look expensive.

2000 Volkswagen, mad old and dented.

Skateboard P, Ashanti, Foolish.

The worst rapper on this track, third coolest."

[an-unraveling-unknown]

hi I’m unknown and if I hear a neat word or phrase from you it will be the single most common word or phrase in my vocabulary for two weeks straight. buckle up sẽnor bananas